Not Always
by npcron
Summary: [ Chapter 2: available! ] A teacher evaluator from the Magical Degree Academy starts her work in Hogwarts. All the professors are ok with it, expect for one. [ Alternative Reality ] SeverusSnapexHelenaAppolinaire [ Synopsis in the story ]
1. the prince of potions

**Synopsis**: Helena Appolinaire was a teacher evaluator for the Magical Degree Academy, which is something still new in the wizard world business but clearly growing since Dumbledore asked the Academy for their services.  
It was for a simple reason, of course.  
Everybody wants to know how their teachers were inside the classroom, so basically they were rated by someone who underestood the subject (as her) and also, later on the program, rated by the students — but that didn't count much since slytherins would rated gryffindor teachers bad and vice-versa. None of the professores were against the new project. Expect one. Severus never liked anyone to close to him, and Helena seemed like a pain in his ass. But with time... while things at the castle started to get strange, their relation also started changing. (*****) _Some muggle stuff are mentioned just to make it fun._

Every chapter is a new episode of her journey in Hogwarts. Later, her sister will be presented. New shipper: SiriusBlackxChloeAppolinaire

Not Always  
Maddie Moe

_1991_  
I was so happy with my new job. My father wasn't as pleased as I, probably because he rather see me working at the Ministry of Magic than Hogwarts but I didn't care which one were more important. I only had space in my heart for one place and it was the school of magic. Also, Albus Dumbledore came to my house in London personally to offer the job. Who — in their right mind — would refuse such an invitation? Think I said_ yes_ with my mouth fulled of my mother's (delicious!) toasts with smoked salmon when the director asked me during brunch — he didn't seem to mind my behavior and noticed how grateful I was. Since the day he visit 'til the day I had to leave home the anxiety took over me completly. I was eating like a pig with pms, even chocolat started to taste like water after a while — and I couldn't hear that word anymore or I would vomite. When I had everything with me I was ready to go take the train. My father, one grumpy slytherin, kissed my forehead. My mother, a lovely gryffindor, hugged me until there was no more oxigen in my lungs.  
— _Cinthia, you're going to kill her _— He warned; she tried to hide her tears under glasses, but everyone knew the truth. I kissed her cheek and held my luggage.  
— _Be safe _— I didn't answer, but my face spoke for myself. After all, I wasn't the difficult child of the family — you will meet _the one _later.

Back to me... I was a teacher evaluator for the Magical Degree Academy, which is something still new in the business but clearly growing since Dumbledore asked the Academy for our services. It was for a simple reason, of course. Everybody wants to know who their teachers were inside the classroom, so basically they were rated by someone who underestood the subject (as I) and also, later on the program, by the students — but that didn't count much since slytherins would rated gryffindor teachers bad and vice-versa. Anyways... Our methods include participation in class. Questioning teachers. And private interviews with themselves so we could create their profile not just based in what we see but in what the eventually tell us.

— ...so let's start this beautiful new year, shall we? — After explaning the students at the Great Hall about my work in Hogwarts that year some of them looked confused. Hermione Granger, who was just chosen for Gryffindor at the sorting ceremony, lift her hand to get my attention. I smiled staring at her and nodded my head giving permission to talk.

— There was nothing in the books of Hogwarts about the Magical Degree Academy.  
— It is something new. So new you will be the first students experiencing. If you like history, miss Granger, I'm sure you would love being part of it. Any questions?

They were probably starving so nobody raised their hands — but I knew they had questions in their pretty heads (they would have time to it when I met them in class). Walked back to the professors table and Dumbledore got up just to say some few last, but encouraging words before the banquet, followed by a start-of-terms notices. The food was delicious — no doubt of that. Minerva McGonagall was sitting on the right side of Albus, followed by Sybill Trelawney, Quirinus Quirrell, Roland Hooch, Myself, Filius Flitwick and Severus Snape. Couldn't remember perfectly the order of teachers on the left side, although. I was drinking pumpkin juice when Hooch brought me to the conversation.

— I must say, miss Appolinaire, can't wait to see your flying skills in my class.  
— Oh, you don't want to see me flying, Hooch... but is quite a spectacle when I fall.  
— Maybe we should use some _charm_ on you to help. Is it against the rules?  
— Filius, please... Isn't she_ charming_ enough?

If you know what she meant — cause I didn't. We were talking about two different types of_ charmes _ here, weren't we? Was Roland flirting with me? I wasn't sure yet but since we were having fun I thought "what the hell with it!". Plus the only people who actually flirted with me back in London were men with bad breath, lower expectations in life and embezzlers — so I bit of "beautiful woman that knows how to ride a broom" wasn't going to kill me.

— Actually, my first class is potions.  
— So Severus is the chosen one. — We all looked at him sitting in the bottom of the table all by him self not making much effort to be part of the conversation. After he put a slice of meat in his mouth he gave us a sideways glance — so he knew we were there, at least! But choose to ignore us. What a rebel!

— I'm not very good with potions, to be honest. Once I blew up a recipe into a boy's face.  
— Oh, poor him! But professor Snape can teach you well.  
— I don't think he likes me, Filius.  
— Didn't you two study together?  
— Yes. He was the boy I blew the recipe into...  
— I see...

Exactly — maybe I wasn't the first person Severus wanted to meet. Of course, everything happened more than ten years ago, but eitherway, we weren't best friends that time or exchanging owls these days. I'm no idiot — everyone who studied in Hogwarts in the 70', had friendship with Evans and some common sense (which most slytherins didn't — probably why they didn't know this) could easily figure it out that the teacher of potions these days had a massive crush on a gryffindor back in time. I wasn't her best friend also so I'm not sure why things didn't go well with both of them, but something tells me it's because he never smiles — and doesn't like gryffindors, and doesn't tell (good) jokes, and... Well, I can stay here all night.

Dinner finished well. We watched every house prefect take the students to their common room and then we were excused to leave. Was so tired, I needed to catch some sleep. On my way I remembered I didn't have the schedule for Severus class the next morning so had to re-do my steps to the dungeons crossing my fingers the teacher would be at his office. Conjured a coat while I was going down because of cold it was there, which made me shiver a bit. When I got in front of the door I knocked twice.

— _Severus? _— No answer. I did put my ear on the door trying to listen if someone was actually inside, but I couldn't hear anything. Tried to open it, but closed. Course, had a spelled for students. I took my wand and with a non-spoken spelled the door was unlocked.

I was such a James Bond.

It was the same gloomy and dimly-lit room as ever. With another shake of my wand the fireplace started doing is job and I could take my coat off. I mainly forgot why was I there while my eyes were completly mesmerized with his collection of ingredients so well stored on shelves. Next to his table, however, there was a different glass cabinet with some small — other larger — bottles with ready-made potions. One of them got my eye. I opened the cabinet and grab the little bottle with my fingers.

— What are you doing here?  
— For Merlin's jeans! Do you want me to drop this, scaring me like that?!  
— You shouldn't be even touching this. — He came to my direction and tried to take it from my hand, but I didn't let him.

— Wait. I just wanted to ask you... Is this Felix Felicis?  
— Yes, genius.  
— That's not what I meant. It this the potion _you made_ that time we were at Hogwarts?  
— Does it matters?  
— It does... That brings me so many memories... — I smiled while admiring the potion in my hand. Severus was the only student that made the proper potion, but he wasn't allowed to use it because it requires six months to stew before it's ready to be consumed. — You never used it?  
— No.  
— You were amazing in that class. — While rolling eyes he took the bottle from my hands, with all his rudeness.

— Before or after you blew a potion in my face?  
— I didn't do it in purpose!  
— I bet Potter made you do it.  
— Don't Potter me!  
— Him with all his allies...  
— Stop it.  
— Following his orders like minions.  
— Shut up! — I finally pointed my wand in his direction. — I'm no ones minion.

He was finishing storing the Felix potion back into the glass gabinet and then turned facing me. It wasn't a cute smile that I saw in his face, but it was close to a maleficent one. Maybe he was having fun making me pissed off with that Potter talk. I wasn't a minion. Much less Potter's.

— Aren't you, miss Appolinaire?  
— Let me prove it to you, then.  
— I have no time for that.  
— Make some. — I didn't quite remember our book of potions in the 70', but I was pretty sure how to messed up a recipe because I was a zero with potions. So I used my wand to get some bottles out of the shelf coming towards a caldron already on fire.

— What are you doing? Don't... Do not mix those two! — He pointed his wand at me.  
— What are you going to do? Curse me?  
— I was planing too. — Severus grabbed my wrist and started pulling my hand down. I tried to fight against it, but he was stronger. I, then, turned to look at him.

— Let me go.  
— No.  
— I'll scream.  
— You came to the dungeons, miss Appolinaire, it was the place chosen by Salazar exactly because no one could hear the screams. — I'm hoping that was I lie, luckly it would be. He gave me one of those smiles again — some malevolent thing probably having fun because I was clearly scared. The professor didn't let go of my wrist, by the way, he just walked until was right behind me and pushed my body to the balcony where the caldron was. I'm not sure what spelled he casted, but my wand felt out of my hand and there was nothing I could do.

The book of his class came floating through the air coming in our direction and landing in front of me already opened in a potion's page.

— Draught of living death?  
— Whats the first step, miss Appolinaire?  
— Are we really doing this?  
— Read. It. — I took a deep breath.  
— Cut up the Sopophorous bean. — Severus put a silver knife and the bean in front of me, leting my hand free, finally. When I started trying to cut, I failed — It was impossible! The bean was hard as rock. He approached again. I could feel his body so next to mine this time, even his breathing was touching the skin of my neck making me shiver (Merlin, please don't make him noticed!). He grabbed my wrists once again showing me how to do it.

— It should be crushed. Releases juices more efficiently. — Said and done. He was right. Well, that made me smile like if I was impressed he knew that. I even looked at him.

— The book says cut.  
— The book is made for idiots.  
— So you're like a prince of potions now?  
— Not the name I would use.  
— I'll put that on your fille. — I laughed; he didn't, making me start to believe he had no sense of humor what so ever. — Let's continue.

Through the making process he was always there to interrupt when felt like it to give me those tips that weren't in the book and actually worked very well. My face when we finished had perfect expression of flabergast. I kept looking, searching for a mistake but couldn't find it. We did it. Well, _he did it, _but still.

— I never made such a perfect potion before.  
— I know. I studied with you.  
— _Jerk._ — I admired the purple bottle the potion was already in. — Can I keep it?  
— No.  
— Why not?! I made it!  
— Oh, you made it?  
— Yes!  
— You can have it when you do it by yourself.  
— I guess I'll need more lessons then...  
— About that... Since I already gave you a lesson there isn't need for you to come watch my class tomorrow morning.  
— Of course there is. I'm so dying to see how you act around eleven years old wizards.  
— There's no difference teaching eleven years old kids and you.  
— Are you calling me annoying or a moron?  
— You can choose.  
— You're such a slytherin.  
— Thank you.  
— Wasn't a compliment, professor. — Took my coat that I left on a chair — Oh, I almost forgot. I need your class schedule, please. — I knew he didn't want to, but he gave it to me while I was waiting at the door. — Night, professor. — He only nodded and closed the door on my face.

Wow. Who knew that Severus wasn't that much _severus, _after all? Yes, he was still rude, his hair looked a bit oily aswell, but he had strong hands — which is a good thing, isn't it? —, and was incredibly good with potions. I must say that while walking back to my doorm I thought a bit about his breath touching my neck. I know I shouldn't! But, you know, the last time I felt someone breathing too close to my neck was in a checkout line in a supermarket — and the guy was some gross fat man with probably 25 that looked 40. He had pimples on his face and was buying five playboy magazines. Who does that, anyway?

Finally with my pajamas I could only think that this month of knowing the teachers before evaluating them would be difficult, maybe even stressful but rewarding. I couldn't wait to find out what Hogwarts had to offer me.

'Night.

Next chapter: If you liked the story, show it and I'll post the new chapter.


	2. a new enemy

_1991_

a new enemy

The bed was so comfy — which was probably the number one reason for me to be late. Also I had such a good dream involving a house built of cheeseburgers that made me not want to wake up since Hogsmead didn't have a McDonalds, honestly don't know why (especially now that they were giving Snoopy souvenirs). I jumped out of bed directly to the bathroom to take care of my personal hygiene and, later, practically dove inside my chest of clothes looking for something that matched with the spring weather. Translating: a round skirt full of birdies designs, but of course couldn't forget the black overcoat that made every teacher look like a gothic — what? I wanted to fit in.

With all the paper needed in hand I went down the same stairs leading to the great hall of Hufflepuff so I could get to the kitchen because breakfast was already over at the time. I standed in front of a painting and tickle the painted pear inside a bowl of fruit that turned into a green handle. Once inside I looked at Mads, a grumpy elf that rolled his eyes at me.

— C'mon.

— Breakfast is over.

— Even for me?

— Especially for you.

Let's just say that in my time at Hogwarts I was known for skipping breakfast not because I wanted, no, but because my bed was also known as the best thing ever. I sighed going toward him, yet he turn his back at me.

— I'm starving! Don't you have a fruit? Or a cake? Ok, maybe just the cake. Fruit cake, then?

— Don't you have a class to be?

— Yes, Mads.

— Which professor?

— Does it matter? — he stopped walking so suddenly that I almost bumped into him. His silence for my question made it pretty obvious that he wanted an answer — Snape.

He smiled. Not a cute smile, though. Something close to what psychopaths do when they smile. I got it — he liked the fact that Severus would be angry at me because I was late. I crossed my arms... my turn to roll eyes.

— Had your fun yet?

— Not yet. — he kept staring at me with the creepiest smile ever while an imaginary tic tac clock sounded in my mind; my stomach made a loud noise probably screaming it was hungry — Ok, I'm done.

He just snapped his fingers and a piece of pumpkin cake appeared on the table.

— Don't you have chocolat cake? — the smile disappeared — Ok, I'm leaving.

Made my way to the classroom, finally, stuffing a whole piece of cake inside my mouth along the way and must admit that I cup of coffee would help make that thing go down my throat.

The door was open when I arrived and I could hear Severus voice.

— Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood? — silence. Almost everyone had eyes on this boy that looked a lot like James. The girl next to him had one arm raised, clearly knew the answer but the professor didn't give her permission to speak. The awkwardness was level hard.

I entered the room and all attention turned to me; at first I thought because my outfit was Gisele Bündchen style, but actually turns out I had an orange crumb of pumpkin cake on the lips and forgot combing my curls. Oh, well.

— A sleeping potion? — Severus looked up at me, still pretty serious or should I say... pretty and serious?

Sorry. I had to say it.

He walked away from the boy he was asking the question, which probably made him start breathing again.

— Are you asking or answering?

— Would you give 5 points to gryffindor if this was my final answer?

— May I recall you, miss Appolinaire, that you're late for class and entered without permission? I should take 15 points from your house.

— Glad I'm not a student, then. — I walked toward him and only stop when we were face to face. For a second I wonder if he had any botox because his face had zero expressions one hundred percent of the time.

— For your information, — he turned to the previous boy of before — Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. — and then looked back at me again. I was a bit surprise when he gave one more little step that made us so close we could whisper to eachother — Is it what you took last night for being late to my class? This potion?

— Are you concerned?

— Curious, because honestly I do not think you're capable to perform such potion... and... tell me, why do you smell like pumpkin?

— Perfume. — he raised his eyebrows probably thinking I'm a pathological liar, however turned to his students that stare at both of us. With a deep voice he said:

— I wonder why you all are not writing anything I just said. — and all little eyes turn to their own parchments making me hold back a laugh. With the students distracted the professor took his hand, with a delicacy that I was completely unaware of existence, close to my chin, and then the middle finger through the left corner of my mouth taking off a crumb of pumpkin cake which denounced my exotic essence — I didn't see you at breakfast.

— Missed me?

— Unlikely. — I held my papers even tighter against my chest while starting to walk where was his desk.

— I will be here. Just watching. Don't mind me.

I was staring at a bunch of papers pretending to be interested, so I cannot say for sure, but I imagine he looked at me again with his facial expression also known as no facial expression what so ever. I heard his feet moving around the classroom.

— Does anyone know where to look if I asked to find me a bezoar?

I look up admiring a class full of students completely lost with lack of knowledge (which is quite normal for freshmen). Except for the frizz-haired girl. She knew enough, but Severus didn't seem to want to give her the word, perhaps expecting some Slytherin to show-off. I coughed higher than normal making the professor sigh, certainly annoyed with the interruption.

— I don't think any of your slytherin stars know the answer.

— What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane? Malfoy.

We all stare the blond kid. He stared the frizz-haired girl when started to answer as a way of saying he was better.

— Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. Also goes by the name of aconite.

— 5 points for slytherin.

Prick.

He also made sure to stare at me with a sociopath-winning smile, as if he was a step ahead of me in our particular game. I didn't know what game it was, but the idea of losing made me want to cut his throat.

Seamus Finnigan raised his hand a few seconds after, bringing all attention to his redder than usual face. Severus didn't seem happy with the gryffindor, but anyway gave him the word.

— Is it true that you studied with professor Snape?

One minute of pure silence. It took me a few seconds to realize that the question was actually directed to me. Took a deep breath, tucking me in the chair. Severus looked at me but wasn't going to dare looking at him. I nodded in positive sign, searching for the right words to complement my answer.

My guess was that Seamus wanted to know more about the difficult man (and probably potion genius) dressed all in black next to us.

— He was already a master in potions in our first year.

— Can't say the same about you. If the interview is over, Finnigan, I would like to continue the class, if you allowed me to.

Again his eyes were like weapons, prepared to shoot in the middle of our forehead.

The teacher walked to his desk dictating important information for the students' knowledge, despite the fact he spoke faster than they could write, then stop right behind me. I could feel the heat of his body behind mine and, especially, the warmth of his breath on my side cheek when he bent to be closer to my face. I did pretend not to care, even with my arm hair clearly frizzy. In a low voice, he said:

— Will you be quiet or I need to staple your mouth?

— Why? You don't know any spells to make me shut up? I think you're not so good as you say, don't you think?

Oh, I loved playing with fire. In fact, beginning to believe that I could be a pyromaniac as playing with fire with Snape was the same as expecting Hogwarts in flames. I do not know how much was he surprised, because I couldn't, see his face, but he continued to lecture. No fires for today.

[...] When students were dismissed they left quickly with their books, irritated with all the work Severus had asked for next class. He was waiting for the last one of them to be gone right next to the door. I stood up, following the same way only stopping to look at him and give a document.

— I need you to sign this. - he took it from my hand without looking at it.

— Will see if I have time.

— I was thinking...

— I doubt that.

— What do you think about painting your hair blonde like your favorite minion, the Malfoy kid? You guys could even start a band.

— Don't you have a class to attend?

— What do you think of the name MasterPotions Boys?

With one of my cutest smiles I went away from him starting to walk down the hall, again carrying my paperwork close to my chest. I gave a little turn around, making the skirt turn following the movement watching him one last time. Not even a minimum smile, he gave me.

— Remember our first potion class? I'm still good with the Cure for Boils potion, wanna see?

I guess the door being close without an answer meant a no.

What a day... at the end of it I was pretty tired. I had to do reports for the classes I attended and therefore didn't stay for the entire dinner at great hall, so could dedicate part of the night to these particular work. Took some raisins along with a sweet juice to the room 11 - on the ground floor which had been assigned temporarily to me.

A cold breeze came into the room from the window blowing-off the candle on the table. I was already going for the wand when I heard three knocks on the thick wooden door. I try to imagine who could it be while walking to it and was surprise to discover it was professor Quirinus Quirrell.

— Professor.

— Night, miss... Appolinaire, isn't it?

— Exactly...

— May I? — he wanted to go inside and I didn't want to say yes at first, but no good reasons for a negative answer crossed my mind so I took a step back allowing his entrance. Once the door was closed I invited him to sit next to my desk — You were missed at dinner.

— Oh...yes, well... I couldnt stay much. I had all these reports...

— About that. I was wondering when you'll be attendind my classes?

I did not understand why the curiosity, but sought among the other papers the one that contained requested information enjoying the waiting time to do some small talk.

— What is with the turban?

— The turban? - is it me or he got a bit agitated?

— That thing on your head... isn't a turban?

— A present, yes. From an african prince.

— Wow-oh! Here. Found it. — I handed the paper — I have a copy, so if you wanna have this one, is ok.

The thing is... he grabbed the paper, but while doing that he touched my hand. There was a sort of strange eye contact, also, and with the certain proximity I could see some dried saliva in the corner of his mouth and I wondered, if everything happens for a reason, why would Merlin made me see this?

I try looking away so wouldn't pay attention to details that disgusted me and pulled my hand back.

— So if this is all...- I turned around the table to make my way to the door, but Quirrell grabbed my wrist.

— Miss Appolinaire...

— Yes, professor...?

The same cold breeze surround us another time. I shivered instantly. I'm not a drug user, but the sounds that came with the breeze made me wonder what else Mads put in my juice. There was this very low, barely audible sound present in the room - clearly a male voice, only Quirrell lips weren't moving.

"Kill her". I could swear it said "kill her". I looked around, while chasing the source of it, not even realized that the teacher had not let go of my wrist still. A sound from the front door woke us from the trance. Quirinus loose my arm at the same speed that he grabbed and soon we both saw Severus.

— Professor Quirrell. Shouldn't you be at your dorm?

His attitude changed suddenly to someone fragile, perhaps frightened by the presence of the other teacher. He used the paper as alibi for his visit so would be exonerated of any accusation that Snape could do (or was doing in thoughts). Quirrell excused himself to us, thank me for the paper and walked out the door followed by the black eyes of the potions master.

I took the quick moment to look at my wrist that was strangely red marked by the force with which he had held me, but fortunately I could hide it with the sleeve of the overcoat. Severus looked at me.

— Shouldn't you be at your dorm? — I asked, just as he did.

— You came to bother me at my office yesterday, so I thought I should return the visit.

— Really?

— No.

He approached already showing the paper I've asked him to sign.

— You came because the dungeons were too cold for your sensitive potion-maker-hands, didn't you? Don't lie. - I held one of his hands which made him let himself go as easily as he held my wrist.

— Next time you touch me, you will lose your hand.

— You gonna bite it?

— I just might.

I doubted he would bite me, but I was also afraid in case he did because I could like it - just kidding. The exchange of angry looks lasted only until he turned toward the door without even saying good night.

— Wait. — he didn't stop — I heard something...

— Good. Means your ears workin' well.

— I mean it. When Quirrell was here.

I don't know why the name of another professor made him change his mind, but at least stopped walking to the door.

— Maybe it was just his voice.

— You know what... you don't believe? Fine. Leave.

Maybe the drama thing worked for Katherine Heigl's romance movies, but with Severus was like giving a bike to a fish - he wouldn't know what to do with it. Basically when I said leave, he actually walked through the door. Against my will I followed him.

— What's wrong with you?

— With me? I'm not the one hearing voices.

— Were you always this arrogant or did you study for it?

He stopped walking to be able to look at me and would probably start a speech about how I'm annoying with that bloody wand lighting up my face, but we were just standing near two corridors; one who led to the dungeons and another that curved at the end, from where a strong breeze came making Snapes overcoat fly, as did my hair.

— It is here.

— What's here? — he turned his wand to the direction I was facing illuminating the hall leaving some paintings angry because of the bright light, but not seeing anything interesting or demonstrating a third presence. Was I the only one that could feel it? The power.

I closed my eyes. My breathing was strangely heavy and my heartbeat increased frequency. I heard the sound again - the voice - but I could not understand what it was saying. My hand instinctively sought Severus's arm, holding him.

I wasn't going to faint; but something drain all my strength and the need to disconnect the body came along. I let the professors arm go when realized that wouldn't be able to stand on my feet anymore, but before I could warn him, I was already unconscious.

Next chapter: If you liked the story, show it and I'll post a new chapter.


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